


The Beauty of Existence

by Pantherheart



Series: The Beauty of Existence [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beauty & the Beast AU, F/F, Forced Marriage, Not in graphic details though, Root hates him, Shoot is endgame, This fic will talk about attempted rape/non-con, but will follow a similar storyline, the thing with Jeremy is one-sided, this will be somewhat darker than the Disney version
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantherheart/pseuds/Pantherheart
Summary: "The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched... they must be felt with the heart."-Helen Keller***"You cannot love me!" Shaw growled, her brown eyes flashing with rage. I did not flinch at her outburst. I wasn't scared of her because I knew Shaw would never hurt me. I watched her furiously pace the room, her claws out and glinting in the soft light of the hearth."And why is that, Sameen?"Shaw stopped pacing and turned to face me. The light of the fire danced across her face, reflected in her eyes and creating shadows on her face as she spoke: "I am a beast. And no one can love a beast. Not even you!"





	1. Introductions and New Beginnings

I hate small towns. I hate that everyone knows everyone and I hate that people are always nosing their way into your personal business because, for some strange reason, they believe they have a right to know.

Bishop is the small town in which I’ve had the displeasure of living for the past 17 years, my entire life. My father, Samuel Groves, is the local blacksmith - the only one in Bishop - so money is pretty good. My family is not rich, per se. We’re nowhere near it, actually. But we’re not extremely poor, either. We have enough to live comfortably, but little to spend on luxuries and unneccessary desires. Because of that, I learned to make do with little and became very resourceful.

I never enjoyed school. I wasn't liked very much by the other kids because I never wanted to play any of their stupid games at recess and I was much smarter than all of them. I preferred to spend time alone, usually sitting high up on a tree branch, reading a book or watching the other children yelling and running around below me. (Though, I didn't watch them very often because they were quite uninteresting and their constant shouting was annoying.)

It wasn't until I was 14, that I met the first of only five people I'd ever consider a friend. He was a boy named Harold Finch, who'd just moved to Bishop with his father from the neighboring village of Maple. We met during recess (yes, it was still called that - even now that we were teenagers) on his first day at the school.

I was, as usual, reading in my favorite tree when I heard a some kids talking nearby. Normally, I wouldn't pay any attention to them, but this time, there was a voice I'd never heard before in the group. So, out of curiosity, I decided to tune in.

"Hey, new kid! You want to play ball?"

"Oh, no," the unfamiliar voice said, sounding nervous and weary. "I'd rather not. You see, I was in an accident a few years ago and now have a limp that hinders my ability to perform in intensive physical activities such as running and playing ball. But thank you for the offer. It means a lot that you thought to include me."

I looked down from the branch I was perched on to see one of my classmates - Jeffrey, I think his name was - and a group of his dumb friends standing around a boy who was sitting on the ground at the base of my tree. The boy was dressed in a smooth button-down shirt and dark pants - modest, neat, and obviously more expensive than the baggy clothes and overalls most of my male classmates wore. Undoubtedly, this boy's family had a good amount of money. My family had just enough to afford clothes that were a step up from rags or farmers' attire, let alone clothes as nice as this boy's were.

He wore glasses and there was an open book in his lap. It was obvious this boy was not into playing ball or rough housing, like the other boys were. I wasn't sure exactly why, but this boy interested me. He was different from the others and I thought maybe trying to make friends was worth a shot this time.

So when Jeffrey and his idiotic followers left with a muttered "Yeah, okay," I slipped my book back into my bag and started making my way down the tree. When I got 5 feet or so above where the boy was sitting, I let go of the branch I was holding and jumped to the ground. My feet hitting the dirt made a loud thud, startling the boy and making him drop the book that was in his hands. He picked it up and turned to look at me incredulously. He eyed me wearily as I came to sit beside him.

"Who are you?"

I smirked, amused by his reaction to my sudden appearance. "You can call me Root."

He blinked owlishly. "Harold Finch."

I grinned. "It's so nice to meet you Harold." I held out a hand and he took it after a few moments of reluctance.

"What..." He pushed up his glasses. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't join you in this need to stay away from Jeffrey and our other annoying, low-intelligence classmates?"

Harold chuckled at that and he seemed to relax a bit. "I suppose you can. He looked over to where Jeffrey and his cronies were trying to get a group of girls to hang out with them. If the girls' expressions conveying varying levels of disgusted were anything to go by, the boys were utterly failing. Harold looked back at me, amusement clear in his voice. "I do believe you are right. They do seem very annoying and are definitely of low-intelligence. They don't seem to know when to take a hint."

I laughed and for the first time in my life, felt like I had found another human being I could truly call a friend.


	2. The Locket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root reflects on the eve of her 17th birthday, when her mother gave her a very special present. In the present day, almost a year afterwards, she gets a very unexpected and very much unwelcome visitor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me! Posting 2 chapters in 1 day! Oh my god! First time ever! Don't expect updates this frequently, guys. Life hates me and therefore almost never gives me time to write. So, today, I'm taking full advantage of doing nothing!

Just bwfore my 17th birthday, my mother fell seriously ill. We traveled to several villages, met with many different doctors, but no one could diagnose what was wrong with her. We could only try and lessen her pain and keep her somewhat comfortable as she slowly passed away. None of the many different herbs and medications we gave her seemed to work. No matter how hard we tried, my mother was never really comfortable.

 

***

 

_On her last night, the eve of my 17th birthday, she was very weak and pale and she could barely turn her head to look at me as I sat in the wooden chair beside her bed._

_I held her hand and tried my best to make her feel calm and at ease, while also trying to keep my own emotions under control. My mother held onto me as tight as she could. I think she knew, as well as I did, she did not have much time left._

_"Samantha," she rasped, squeezing my hand as tightly as her dwindling strength would allow. "Promise me something."_

_"Anything, Mother. What is it?" I leaned a bit closer to her so I could hear her better._

_"Promise me you'll find your true love. And that when you do, you'll never let her go, no matter what happens."_

_I stared at her, shocked. "What... How do you know my true love will be a woman?"_

_My mother gave me a smile, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "You're not exactly subtle, Darling. Besides, I have suspected for years, you wouldn't end up with a man. You confirmed my suspicions the day you came home from school last year, complaining that one the boys kept trying to get you to go on a date with him, even though you'd told him you weren't interested. What was the boy's name? Joey...? Jeffery...?"_

_"Jeremy," I told her. "Jeremy Lambert."_

_"Ah, that's right. Jeremy Lambert. I asked you why you didn't give him a chance and do you remember what you told me?"_

_I shook my head no._

_"You told me, and I quote, 'The day I marry a man the day God joins forces with the Devil.' And we all know that's never going to happen."_

_I bit my lip and frowned, looking down at our adjoined hands resting on the mattress. "And... you're okay with that?" I asked quietly. "Me being with a woman?"_

_"Samantha, look at me."_

_I slowly lifted my gaze to meet my mother's eyes. She had an intense, thoughtful expression on her face. "The thought of you being with a woman does not disgust me because I will always love you, no matter what. You are my child. Beyond that, I do not find it erroneous for two people of the same gender to be attracted to one another. God created us all to live on this Earth. If homosexuality is wrong, why would He create it in the first place? And if He deems it acceptable, who am I to say He's wrong?"_

_I smiled at my mother and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, Mother. And I promise."_

_My mother smiled. After a few moments of silence, she said, "I have something for you. It is your birthday tomorrow, after all. And what kind of mother would I if I had nothing to give my daughter on her birthday?"_

_Weakly, she lifted a hand and pointed to the wardrobe. "In the top drawer, there is a small white box."_

_Letting go of my mother's hand and lying it gently on the bed, i stood up and walked to the wardrobe. I opened it and pulled out the top drawer. There was, indeed, a small white box within it. It had an engraving of a rose on the lid. I lifted it from the drawer and closed the wardrobe, making my way back to my mother's bedside._

_"Go on, Darling. Open it."_

_With careful hands, I slowly lifted the lid off the wooden box. Inside was a gold chain necklace, a locket hanging on it. I took the locket out and put the box on the bed. I clicked open the locket, to see a small rose petal inside._

_I looked up to see my mother watching me. "It's beautiful," I told her. I slipped the chain around my neck and let the locket rest against my chest. "Thank you."_

_My mother smiled and took my hand in her's again. She squeezed as tight as she could, which was not very much. I could tell she was getting weaker by the minute._

_"That locket has been in my family for generations." My mother's voice was growing weaker. "Keep it safe for me and do not loose the petal inside it."_

_"I will, Mother."_

_She smiled up at me and lifted a hand to my cheek. "You are so beautiful, Samantha. My daughter, I love you."_

_I felt tears come to my eyes as she closed her eyes and let her head rest against the pillows. I blinked, refusing to let the tears fall. "I love you, too, Mother. I'll keep my promise. May God be with you in Heaven."_

_It got harder and harder to hold back my tears as my mother lay still on the bed, relaxed, as her breathing slowed. After a few moments, it stopped completely and she was gone._

_Then, and only, then, did I let the tears fall._

 

***

 

That was almost a year ago now. We held a funeral for her. It was a nice service and a lot of people came. Everyone in Bishop branch loved my mother. They all tried to console me, tell me they were sorry for my loss. All i wanted was for them to leave me alone. They didn't know my mother, not like I did.

I think my father was even more affected by my mother's death than I was. He started drinking and spending long nights in his shop doing God-knows-what. He wouldn't let me help him anymore. He rarely ever talked to me, preferring to instead pretend I didn't exist. I think it was because I reminded him too much of my mother - people said we looked a lot alike. And I think... he didn't know what to do with that.

My father still did his duties as the blacksmith, but whatever money we got was spent on more and more alchohol. So, I had to find a job of my own. I needed money to keep my father and I alive. I went into town in search of a job, but there were none. No one wanted the strange girl who's father was an alchoholic working for them.  
I talked to Harold about it. He had an after-school job as an assistant librarian at the local library. He said he'd try and see if he could get me a job there, too. It took a lot of convincing on Harry's part, but eventually the librarian agreed to hire me as a second assistant librarian. Harold said he'd work at the desk - checking out the books and recording which were brought back - because he knows how much I hate having to talk to people. I was very thankful for that.

My job, instead, was to make sure all the books were categorized correctly and re-shelf books when they were returned. I didn't mind the job, even if it was pretty boring. After all, I needed the money. Harold and I had a lot of extra time on our hands, so we did our school work and read books and sometimes just talked about things.

 

***

 

One day, when I got home from a run out to the general store to get groceries, I found my father sitting on the couch in the living room, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Wordlessly, I went to the kitchen and put the food in the cabinet and in the icebox. Once that was done, I started up the stairs toward my room, but stopped when I heard my father calling me.

"Samantha, come here."

Nervous, I turned around and walked back to the living room. I stopped in the doorway and watched my father expectantly. He was silent for a few moments, staring at the label on the bottle he was holding. When he looked up, his eyes were glassy. It was clear, he'd been drinking for a while.

"You ever drink whiskey?" He asked, his voice slurred.

I stared, unimpressed. "No, I haven't. What do you want, Father?"

"I have to tell you something."

Oh, this should be good. "What is it?"

He tried to take a drink from the bottle, but missed his mouth, so the whiskey spilled all over his clothes. He groaned and lay back on the couch. The whiskey sloshed around in the bottle. A little spilled onto the couch.

"We're having a guest over tonight. A good friend of mine. I'd like you to meet him."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. My father had had friends over plenty of times, but never had I been asked to meet them. Usually I left to spend the night at Harold's or just locked myself in my room, if he was unavailable.

What makes this "friend" so special, that I have to meet him?

Unfortunately, I couldn't say I had plans already because Harold was busy working on something. He wouldn't tell me what it is yet, said it was a "personal thing" and that he'd show me later, when he had more of it complete.

Before I could come up with some kind of excuse to get myself out of this mess, there was a knock at the door. My father stood up on shaky legs and almost fell flat on his face, spilling more alchohol on the floor. With uncoordinated steps, he slowly made his way to the front door. I didn't bother to help him. I didn't care enough.

He disappeared down the hallway and I heard the front door opening a few seconds later. I heard my father talking to someone, but tuned them out, trying to decide if I how fast I could grab my bag from my room and sneak out the window without my father noticing. It wouldn't be too hard.

I had already made my way to the foot of the stairs and was just about to run up to my room when I heard my father and our guest rounding the corner. "There she is! Samantha, come meet my friend!"

I rolled my eyes and slowly turned around. With an annoyed sigh, I walked back to the living room. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw who was sitting next to my father on the couch.

"Hello, Samantha."

"Jeremy Lambert. What the hell are you doing here?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean your father hasn't told you?" He gave me a predatory smile. "You and I are getting married, Love."


	3. The Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made three mistakes within the next 5 minutes that almost cost me dearly.
> 
> -Mistake #1: I closed my bedroom door.
> 
> -Mistake #2: I turned my back.
> 
> -Mistake #3: I was too shocked to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters in a day! I'm on a roll! I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, but that's ok. I really didn't like what had to happen in this chapter. TW: Attempted rape/non-con in this one. It's marked by a line (=<>=<>=<>=), so if you don't want to read that part, you can skip it. In fact, you can skip this whole chapter, if you want. It's kind of shitty. The writing quality will greatly improve after this one, I promise. Basically what happens, for those of you, who decide to skip this chapter, is that Jeremy tries to molest Root, but her dad interrupts right when he's about to... you know... and kicks him out of the house. The next morning, Root feels sick and her head hurts a lot. (She hit her head really hard during the attempted "incident". It was Jeremy's fault.) She throws up and her dad finds her in the bathroom. He blames her for what happened, saying she asked Jeremy to do that and she gets really angry and punches him in the face. Then, she packs all her stuff - including the locket from last chapter - and leaves with her horse, a black stallion named Calamity.

**Previously in The Beauty of Existence...**

_"Jeremy Lambert. What the hell are you doing here?"_

_He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean your father hasn't told you?" He gave me a predatory smile. "You and I are getting married, Love."_

 

><><>***<><><

 

I stared at the two men sitting on my couch in complete shock. "What?!"

Jeremy stood up and walked over to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Samantha-"

I yanked out of his grip and took a step back. "My name is Root," I growled.

He just smiled devilishly at me. "Why don't you and I talk about this upstairs?"

I glared at him defiantly. I glanced over at my father. He was passed out on the couch, drooling.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust before turning my murderous glare back on Jeremy. "Fine."

I stormed up the stairs, Jeremy following close behind me. I could feel his gaze on my ass the whole time.

"Stop staring at my ass," I hissed at him.

I didn't have to glance back at him to know he had a smirk on his face. _Pervert_.

I made three mistakes within the next 5 minutes that almost cost me dearly.

**Mistake #1: I closed my bedroom door.**

I closed the door behind us and turned to face Jeremy. Crossing my arms over my chest and giving him a.defiant glare, I said: "I can't marry you."

He looked disappointed. "Why not?"

I rolled my eyes. "Two reasons. One, I hate you. Two, I'm not attracted to men."

"Not attracted to men?"

"No, Jeremy," I said slowly, as if explaining something to a little kid. "I am not attracted to men. Which means, I am not attracted to you. I like women. And since you're the complete opposite of one, I can not marry you. Got it?"

 

**_= <>=<>=<>=<>=<>=_ **

 

I expected him to retreat from the room and run back to whatever hole he came from at this point. And that's when I made...

**Mistake #2: I turned my back.**

Before I completely knew what was going on, I was flat on my back against the hardwood floor. My head hurt, as if I had slammed it on something really hard. My vision was blurry, but I could make out Jeremy hovering above me. I felt a pair of hands holding my wrists above my head. Normally, I would have been able to throw him off me quite easily. But I was in too much pain to react. I was too shocked to move.

**Mistake #3: I was too shocked to scream.**

Through the fog that was clouding my brain, I faintly heard Jeremy saying something. "The reason you don't like men... is that you've never been with a real man like me."

I saw him reach down for his pant buckle and my mind screamed at me to kick, to shout, to do something but my whole body was complete frozen. My heart pounded in my chest and fear pumped through my veins. There was nothing I could do...

I closed my eyes and prayed to God to do something to end this torture. I begged Him 'Please, help me!'

It seems, He was listening... Or someone was... Becuase the next moment Jeremy was ripped off me. My eyes flew open to see...

"Father?"

 

**_ =<>=<>=<>=<>=<>= _ **

 

There he was. Standing above me, yelling at Jeremy, who was scrambling to buckle his trousers and run out the door. I heard the pounding of two pairs of footsteps running down the stairs and more shouting and the slam of a door before the pounding in my head grew unbearable and everything went black.

 

***

 

When I opened my eyes again, it was dark outside. Moonlight shone through my bedroom window, casting shadows across the room. Groggily, I sat up and looked around. The room was empty and the house was quiet. There was still a pounding in my head and my wrists were sore. I reached a hand up to the back of my head and felt crusted blood there.

Briefly, I wondered how it'd gotten there... And then I remembered. Jeremy. He tried to...

My heart started pounding again and I started breathing heavily at the thought of what could have happened to me if my father hadn't come in at the exact moment he did.

In a rush, I jumped out of bed and ran as fast as I could to the bathroom. I bent over the garbage pail and emptied the contents of my stomach. It smelled disgusting, but I didn't have the strength to care. I simply curled up into a ball against the wooded cabinet and sobbed.

 

***

 

I must have fallen asleep again, because the next time I woke up, it was to my father's pissed off face.

"...up, you little shit," he was yelling. "How could you?!"

Confused I sat up and scooted away from him and his alchohol scented breath. "How... could I... what?"

My father's eyes narrowed and he raised a fist in the air. "How you you try and make Jeremy do that to you?!"

"What? I..." I felt the confusion, sadness, and rage boiling on my veins as I realized what he wa implying. "You think I asked him to try and rape me?!"  
"Rape?" He laughed humorlessly. "That ain't what it looked like to me It ain't rape if you enjoyed it."

I felt the rage take over me and without realizing what I was doing, I raised a fist and slammed it into my father's jaw. He fell over in shock and grabbed his face. "What the fucking hell? You bitch!"

I stood up unsteadily. "I didn't ask for it," I growled down at him. "And I sure as hell didn't enjoy it."

I stormed out of the bathroom and entered my bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I grabbed my travel bag from my closet and threw what little I owned into it - a few pairs of clothes, a sketchbook of drawings, a pack of pencils, and the locket my mother gave me before she died. The locket I slipped around my neck, tucking it under my shirt. I slipped on my black cloak, slung my bag over my shoulders, and opened my bedroom door. I could see my father still on the bathroom floor, seemingly passed out again. Without a second glance back, I walked down the stairs and out the front door, not even bothering to grab my house key as i went. I had no intentions of returning to this hell.

I walked to the stables behind the house and went over to my horse, Calamity. He was a large black stallion, strong and muscular. I've had him since he was a foul, so we were very close. He was my only friend, other than Harold, and there was no way I was leaving without him.

I opened the gate to his stall and stepped inside. I stroked his nose and looked into his dark, intelligent eyes. "We have to leave, buddy," I whispered. "We have to run away."

Calamity nieghed quietly and pressed his nose into my hand. I gave him a small smile and scratched his ears before moving away to grab his saddle and bridle. He stood patiently still as I put on his riding gear. Taking hold of the reins, I led him out of the stable and into the cool fall air. He dug his feet into the ground in anticipation. I swung onto his back and took hold of his reins. "Ok, Calamity." I said, digging my heels into his sides. "Go!"

And we sped off towards the village, neither of us looking back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaw's coming into the story soon!!! In the next chapter or two. You guys excited???


	4. Saying Good-bye Is Never Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this update is so late! You know how it is. The universe is infinite and chaotic and cold. And it never wants to give you time to write fanfiction, like you really want to. Oh, the struggles of being a huge nerd... It's ok. I'm proud of my status as a Super-powered Nutball.  
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I'm 95% sure Sam will be in the next one, so get ready!

I slowed Calamity to a walk as we neared Harold's house. It was a large two-story brownstone located on the west side of town where the wealthier people lived. There were very few wealthy people in Bishop, so there were only a handful of homes located in this section of town.

When we reached the front porch, I slid off Calamity's back and tied his reins to the post. "I'll be back soon," I told him. All he did was snort and bend his head down to eat the grass.

With a heavy sigh, I approached the front door and knocked. "Harold?"

I heard footsteps inside the house and a few moments later, the door opened to reveal my childhood friend. "Root?" He took in my cloaked appearance and Calamity grazing a few feet behind me. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to say good-bye, Harold."  
Harold's eyes narrowed in confusion and he ushered me inside urgently. He led me to the living room and we sat together on the couch.

"What's going on?" Harold asked.

I turned my gaze down to my lap and kneaded my fingers nervously. After a few moments, I looked back up at my friend, meeting his eyes. "I'm leaving, Harry. I can't stay here anymore."

"What do you mean?"

I turned my head to look out the window. The sun was shining and the sky was a clear, cloudless blue. There were two foxes prancing around in Harold's front yard, running and tumbling together without a care in the world, just enjoying the beauty and warmth of the sun. I watched them play for a while, reflecting on the previous night's happenings and gathering my thoughts. Finally, long after the foxes had run back into the trees of the surrounding forest, I turned my attention back to Harold.

"My father... had a visitor last night." Harold winced. He knew how much I hated having to stay home while my father had friends over. He opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him. "It wasn't a normal visitor. It was Jeremy Lambert." My friend's eyes widened in surprise, but this time he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue. "Jeremy informed me that my father had arranged us to be married. He suggested we talk about it in my room and I agreed.

"I told Jeremy I couldn't marry him because I'm not attracted to men. But he wouldn't accept that. The reason I don't like men, he said, was because I've never 'been with a real man like him.' And then he..." I blinked, trying to hold back tears as the memory of last night played through my head. "He tried to rape me. Luckily, my father stormed into the room before he could really do anything. I remember hearing a lot of shouting, but I don't know what they were saying. Everything was blurry. I'd hit my head at some point. And I remember the sound of the front door slamming, but I blacked out after that.  
"When I woke up this morning, my father started yelling at me, saying I'd asked Jeremy to do that to me and that I'd ... _enjoyed_ it."

Tears were running down my face now and sobs racked my body. I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and I buried my head in Harold's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Harold whispered.

"I can't stay here anymore, Harry. I have to go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere is better than this hellhole of a town."

We sat in silence for what felt like hours, until my sobs finally calmed down and my body stopped trembling. Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I pulled away from Harold's embrace. "I have to leave," I sniffled, standing up and heading toward the door. I heard Harold scrambling after me. I was just about to turn the doorknob when he placed a gentle hand on my wrist, stopping me. I turned my head to look at him.

His eyes studied me worriedly and his voice was laced with concern. "Root, wait! Where are you going?"

"I told you, Harold. Anywhere."

"But- I mean- You could stay here! I'm sure my father wouldn't mind."

I scoffed. "I can't stay in Bishop, Harold, don't you see? This is the first place my father will look once he's sober enough to stay awake for more than 5 minutes. And Jeremy won't stay away for long either. He'll find my father and apologize and they'll be the best of friends again. Hell my father was so wasted, he probably doesn't even remember what happened last night. Either way, they'll come looking for me. And I can't be here when they do.

Gently, I pulled my wrist out of Harold's grip and opened the door. I stepped through and turned back towards him. I met his gaze and pullled him into a tight hug. "Thank you for being such a good friend to me these past few years. I'll miss you." I pulled away and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye, Harold."

And, with that, I turned and walked back down the steps. I untied Calamity's reins and clambered up onto his back. With one last small, sad smile at Harold, I flicked the reins and led Calamity off into the woods that lay beyond the village. I was leaving Bishop behind.

Though I was going to miss Harold dearly, I knew there was no way I could stay. I had to start a new life out here in the forest. I was certain no one would come after me. Everyone in Bishop was deathly terrified of the woods. There were stories of wolves and three-headed beasts living out here. The wolves, I wouldn't doubt existed. But three-headed beasts? There was no way. Whatever lurked in the shadows, I'd be able to handle. I'm good with a sword and I know how to fashion makeshift weapons out of wood. Besides, I was sure nothing could be worse than the nightmare that was my old life in Bishop.


	5. Peace Talks Are For Negotiating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I cleared my throat, looking back at the figure but this time avoiding their eyes.  
> "Come into the light."  
> Almost reluctantly, the figure stepped forward. I gasped, more in awe than in fear. The figure was not human, I realized, but was most definitely female. She was lean and muscular, with dark brown fur covering her entire body and paws tipped with thorn-sharp claws. She wore a black cloak, not unlike my own, that brushed the floor when she moved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHAW'S HERE!!!!!

Unsure of where we should go, Calamity and I wandered aimlessly through the woods for a while. Before I knew it, the sky was growing dark and the sun was replaced by the moon, its white light casting shadows through the trees. I continued to guide Calamity forward and eventually, I noticed a break in the trees. We came into a large clearing. In front of us was a tall iron gate and beyond that lay an enormous stone castle, like the ones I've read about in books at the library.

I slid off Calamity's back and took hold of his reins, slowly leading him towards the iron gate. Suddenly, he bucked and reared, resisting against the riens as if he sensed danger beyond the gates.

"Calamity," I tightened my grip on his reins and reached out a hand to soothingly stroke his nose. "It's ok. You're ok."

He calmed down with a small neigh and allowed me to fasten his reins to the gate. I gave his nose one last pat before pushing open the unlocked gate and stepping inside.

I noticed an object on the ground a few yards away from me and went over to investigate. Kneeling down, I picked it up. It was a hat. _Harold's hat._

"Harold," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

I stood and continued to the front door of the castle. Like the gate, it, too, was unlocked.

 _Whoever lives here is surprisingly laxed on security_ , I thought, walking through the entrance and shutting the door behind me.

Inside, it was dimly lit with a few torches adorning the the walls. A red-carpeted staircase stood in front of me, leading up to the second floor. On either side of the staircase, I could see numerous doors and a hallway that led deeper into the castle.

I grabbed a torch from the wall and ascended the steps in search of my friend. At one point, I thought I heard voices behind me but when I looked, I saw no one there.

"Harold," I called, turning down yet another dark corridor. "Is anyone here?"

"Root?"

I whipped around to see Harold in a small locked cell, gripping the bars and staring at me with wide eyes. I rushed over to him and knelt down. "Harry!"

"How did you find me?"

"That's not important. We need to get you out of here."

"No! You need to leave, now!"

"Who's done this to you?"

"There's no time to explain, Root. You have to go!"

"I'm not leaving you, Harold."

Suddenly, I was ripped away from the cell and shoved aside. The torch slipped out of my hand and rolling across the stone floor, extinguishing the flame and leaving the room dimly lit by a stream of moonlight shining through the window.

"What are you doing here?!" a voice roared.

Harold yelled at me to "RUN!" but I ignored him, instead standing up and facing the shadows where the voice had come from.

"Who's there?" I called, my eyes straining to see through the darkness.

"The master of this castle," the voice answered.

"I came for my friend. Please, let him out. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"He trespassed on my land!"

"Please, I'll do anything!"

"There is nothing you can do! He's my prisoner now."

"There must be something..."

I heard footsteps and could vaguely make out a figure leaving the room.

"Wait!" I called. They stopped and turned to look back at me. I took a step towards them. "Take me instead."

I heard Harold protesting, telling me 'You don't know what you're doing!' but, once again, I ignored him, keeping my eyes trained on the mysterious figure lurking in the shadows. They stayed silent for a moment, as if considering my proposal. "You... would take his place?"

"If I did, would you let him go?"

"Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever."

I squinted at the shadows, trying to make out the figure more clearly. All I could tell was that they were relatively short - about 5 foot or so - and had deep brown eyes that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. They were captivating, mesmerizing even...

I shook my head and blinked, breaking out of the daze that had taken over my brain. I cleared my throat, looking back at the figure but this time avoiding their eyes.

"Come into the light."

Almost reluctantly, the figure stepped forward. I gasped, more in awe than in fear. The figure was not human, I realized, but was most definitely female. She was lean and muscular, with dark brown fur covering her entire body and paws tipped with thorn-sharp claws. She wore a black cloak, not unlike my own, that brushed the floor when she moved.

Instead of fear - what most people would feel at the sight as this creature - I felt curiosity. She intrigued me and, as strange as it may sound, I somehow knew she would not hurt me.

I glanced back at Harold, who was still gripping the bars of his cell and staring at me in shock. I gave him a tiny, reassuring smile and turned back to the creature.

"You have my word," I told her.

"Very well." She moved past me to unlock Harold's cell. I felt a brief tingling sensation when her fur brushed against the skin of my arm and I shivered.

Once Harold was out of the cell, the creature stepped back into the shadows, watching as Harold tried to, once again, convince me to leave him.

"You can't do this, Root! I'm the one who trespassed, I should be the one to stay!"

"What's done is done, Harold." I gave him a playful smirk. "Besides, I'm the one who's supposed to be living out in the woods, remember? Not you. You have a life to go back to in Bishop. I don't. Who knows, maybe some higher power wanted this all to happen?"

Harold watched me with sad eyes. "Perhaps, Root. But that does not change the high probability that I will never see you again."

I felt my heart sink at the thought of that, but hid my despair behind a cheerful grin. "Harry... you of all people should know, I don't stay locked up unless I want to be." I pulled him into a tight hug, the grin dropping from my face. "I'll escape," I whispered. "I promise."

"I know," he said, his voice equally as quiet.

"It's time for him to go," the creature spoke up from the corner of the room. I had almost forgotten she was there. Almost.

Reluctantly, I let go of Harold and stepped back. "Calamity is waiting at the front gate," I told him. "Bring him home with you. And take good care of him for me."

Harold nodded. "I will. And, Root... Thank you."

"You know I'd do anything for you, Harry."

I saw my friend's eyes flicker to my right and I turned my head to see the creature standing a few feet away, studying me. She stepped forward and ushered Harold out of the room and down the corridor. I heard the sound of the front door closing a minute later. I rushed to the window and watched as Harold walked through the gate and untied Calamity's reins. He climbed onto my horse's back and with one last forlorn look back at the castle, the two of them slowly started making their way back to Bishop.

I stood at the window long after Harold and Calamity disappeared from sight. I heard the creature re-enter the room, but I ignored her. A single tear trailed down my cheek and I wiped at it with the sleeve of my cloak.

"I'm Shaw, by the way."

I turned to see the creature standing in the doorway, once again watching me.

I blinked. "What?"

"My name. It's Shaw. Since you're going to be staying here, you should know what to address me as."

"Oh. Right." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Well... I'm Root."


End file.
